My Halloween Wish
by melonscraps
Summary: Bella hates Halloween, but is forced to attend a party at a nearby frat house on Halloween night.  She never expects to find the one thing she never knew she wanted, the thing that doesn't exist.


**A/N:** I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does. I just get to play in the world she created. No copyright infringement is intended. Thank you to my beta, kaydee1005. You are awesome. Thanks to my pre-readers, Padme-And-Anakin-4-Ever and ladauphine for all the advice. One-shot written for All Hallows Eve Contest. You can view all the other entries here… http:/www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/u/2496726

BPOV

Today is Halloween. I hate Halloween. Even as a child I hated it. Dressing up in ridiculous costumes just so you can beg for candy from strangers? I never understood the draw to that ridiculous ritual. Not to mention, the end of October in Forks, Washington is really cold and usually rainy. My Dad always made me go trick-or-treating; he said it was fun. I don't even like candy.

Every year was the same. I would put on some corny costume, only to cover it up with my jacket. I darted in and out of the rain, from one house to another. At least Dad went with me in the cold and rain. Sometimes I wondered if Dad enjoyed having the candy around or the ritual of Halloween itself.

I was forced against my will to go trick-or-treating even in high school. My senior year was a difficult one. I had just turned eighteen and tried to pull the 'I'm eighteen now, I can make my own decisions' card, but Dad wouldn't have it. He told me that as long as I lived in his house, he was still in charge.

That is how I find myself, a year later, excitedly happy that I am away from home, able to make my own decisions. This year, I won't be spending my evening out in the cold and rain of Seattle, running around in the dark, and soliciting strangers for candy. Instead, I will be curling up on my couch, drinking tea, and reading a good book—alone in my dorm room.

The University of Washington is where I call home, McMahon Hall more specifically. It is quiet here and I really enjoy it. There is a wonderful view, and most the students here are in an art program or an honor student. I am here for both reasons. Since I want to be a graphic designer, the Visual Communication Design Bachelor's Program seemed the perfect choice.

I have two roommates, Alice Brandon and Rosalie Hale—both freshman like me. They are very different than me, but I really like them. Alice is majoring in sculpting and Rosalie is majoring in photography. Both of them love designer clothes and shopping, while I am happy in my ratty jeans and a baggy t-shirt. They are constantly trying to get me more involved in my appearance. However, I am happy this way. While they spend an hour primping themselves each day, I sleep in and climb out of bed at the very last minute; barely having time to complete my shower and get breakfast before class.

Today is no exception. The only difference with today and other days is Alice and Rosalie won't shut up about Halloween. I lie in my bed pretending to be asleep while they yammer on about some party tonight. I am not the least bit interested.

My alarm goes off twenty minutes later. I slap it off and climb out of bed. Like any other day, I greet them in the bathroom and they leave with their makeup while I shower. Squeaky clean and dressed, I open the door and allow the girls to come back in. I brush my hair and pull it into a pony tail. While brushing my teeth, Alice addresses me.

"Bella, I know how you feel about Halloween and all, but there is going to be a huge party over at the Beta Theta Pi house…" Alice begs before I cut her off.

"No. No fucking way I am going to a Halloween party," I sternly reply.

"You don't even have to dress up. Besides, these guys are all gorgeous; don't you wanna feast on the man-candy?" Alice pointedly counters.

"Bella, it's not a Halloween party, per se, just an ordinary party. If people dress up, that's fine, but it's not required. They throw a party like this at the end of every month," Rosalie states matter of factly, handing me a flyer advertising said party.

I don't need words to express my annoyance; I just give them my best bitch-brow as a reply.

"C'mon, please?" Alice adds, actually holding her hands together as she begs me once again.

"Fine, I'll go. But only because it's Friday and I don't have classes tomorrow. But I will _not_ be dressing up," I add firmly, darting my glance back and forth between them.

They both squeal while jumping up and down, holding hands and bringing me into their joyous huddle. I can't hide my enjoyment in the fact that I just made their day. Not to mention, this is the first time they actually attempt to include me in something, outside of our dorm activities and academics.

Resolving to continue through with the commit I just made, I say my good-byes, grab my messenger bag and head off to breakfast before my first class.

Breakfast is a simple grab and run, choosing a jug of milk and a toasted bagel with gobs of cream cheese. I munch on my breakfast while walking across campus. Today I get to suffer through art history. It has nothing to do with my career choice, but it is a requirement for all art school students. I finish my trek and enter the art building.

Upon entering my class, I am reminded of the only thing enjoyable about this class -the fine-looking man who sits across the room from me. We spend a lot of time gazing upon each other and even enjoy the occasional wink or small smile. When he winks at me, I instantly blush, making him smile in return. He is a wonderful distraction from the boredom of Art History.

He's tall, with a unique color of hair, like copper. His eyes are the most beautiful and deep green I have ever seen. His complexion seems to be perfect; I haven't seen a single blemish or flaw. I can tell he is smart too. It appears that he really enjoys this class—though I don't know why—and I contemplate what his major is.

The entire class quietly mutters under their breath about the displeasure of our homework assignment for the weekend—an essay on our feelings, opinions, and speculations of Vincent Van Gogh's _Self Portrait with Bandaged Ear_. We are each handed a print of the painting, and then the professor excuses us. I am grateful that I only have this class once a week, albeit a lengthy class—three hours of agony.

Picking up my bag and stuffing the print into it, I notice that the object of my desire has already left—damn, he's a quick one. After a moment of deliberation, I scurry out of the room myself and head home to get started on my homework.

I like to get my studying done as soon as possible and out of the way. That leaves me more free time for things I enjoy. This is a perfect time for studying; I have four hours until my next class. I spend my early afternoon studying the painting and researching it online. I nibble on some lunch and before I know it, it's time for my last class of the week.

The one-hour calculus class passes by, and I get that homework done in no time. Math is much more enjoyable to me, and it comes pretty easily. I head over to the dining hall and have some dinner before heading home to get ready for the ridiculous party.

Rosalie and Alice want me to be a Fashionista Barbie, complete with blonde wig, blue contacts, Barbie Pink barely-there dress and high heels. I tell them 'no fucking way'; I am perfectly happy in my standard jeans, baggy shirt and chucks. They, of course, have gone all out, both dressing up and looking like skanks. Ali is some kind of a fairy and Rose is cheerleader—both are very cliché costumes but at least their look is unique.

Eight o'clock comes around, and I am reluctantly on my way to the frat house, inwardly kicking and screaming in protest. The so-called Non-Halloween party seems to be very much a Halloween party, and I seem to be the only one not dressed up. I suddenly feel foolish and tell myself not to stay long.

Attempting to mingle, I weave in and out of drunken frat boys and willing girls. Obviously I suck at mingling, and I soon find myself alone. It is loud and crowded, and suddenly I stop dead in my tracks. In front of me, staring in my direction is the handsome man from Art History. He licks his lips as he advances toward me, and I try to maintain my breathing with no luck.

He is dressed up as a vampire, complete with black cape, white gloves, fake fangs, and pretend blood running down his chin. _Fuck me sideways_. He is coming over to me. I can now see that his eyes are even more fiercely green, like an emerald. His hair is in its usual disarray, looking like he just climbed out of bed, and his coppery locks shine under these lights. He carries a drink, but it is appears to be untouched.

He stops just feet in front of me and flashes his fangs. He is much taller standing so close; I barely come to his chest. I blush, my usual incriminating evidence that shows my embarrassment, as I feel the heat and blood rush to my face.

The green-eyed creature balks a little at my blushing, and then his usual confident smirk crosses his face. The smile is odd, but it does things to me I have never experienced…down there. His smile is full, even reaching his eyes, but crooked. It is the most tantalizing smile I have ever seen. I glance down at my hands, fiddling with them as he finishes his journey towards me, closing the last few feet that once stood between us.

Standing directly in front of me, his hand reaches over and tucks a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. I still can't look at him, but I can smell him. He smells strangely like honey, lilac, and sun. As odd as it sounds, his scent intoxicates me. I can't stand to be this close to him; I feel like he is drawing me in like a predator does with his prey. I take a step back, bumping into another boy I recognize from Art History—Mike something or other—making him fall down.

I apologize profusely for knocking him down, and I reach out to help him up. He turns down my help and gracefully hops up to his feet. He smiles at me, says something in French—I think—and kisses my hand. I swear I hear 'the vampire' growl.

I look to the man still standing in front of me. He seems to be standing in a protective way, almost possessive. I brush it off and begin to walk away; something about him makes me want to run away. I don't get more than two steps away when he grabs my arm and stops me.

"Please, don't leave," he mutters, sounding astonishingly remorseful.

I turn around as his grip lessens and gaze at him. He voice is soft like velvet and sounds almost angelic. He is alluring, and I am powerless to his charms. It's almost like we are two magnets who cannot be pulled apart.

Silently, I reply to his request by leading him to the couch which is currently unoccupied due to all the dancing.

"Hello, I'm Edward, Edward Cullen," the vampire-stranger politely says.

_Edward_. Such an odd name, there aren't that many our age named Edward. I wonder if he goes by Ed or Eddie, but then I realize if he does he would have introduced himself that way.

Still stunned over the situation, I realize he is looking at me with a raised brow waiting for a response. I clear my throat so my voice doesn't squeak when I speak.

"Hi, I'm Bella. Nice to meet you." I hold out my hand to shake his, and he hesitantly reaches out to meet mine. I can't help but notice that he doesn't appear to be breathing.

We shake hands, and I feel something shoot through me, almost like an electric current. As surprising as that is on its own, add the fact that he is wearing gloves and I am completely shocked. I can't let go, and apparently neither can he. We sit side by side on the couch, facing one another while holding hands, getting lost in the moment.

Our little bubble of peace is rudely interrupted when a couple decides to fall onto the couch, already heavily making out. To say it is uncomfortable is an understatement. Still holding hands, he silently leads me outside away from the noise of the frat boys and other revelers.

We walk out into the cold, and I look around. It isn't the type of backyard you would expect at a frat house. The yard is beautifully landscaped, and there is a large gazebo, complete with a picnic table and benches. Edward leads me to sit down on a bench and sits beside me as we both turn inward, facing each other.

It is silent between us, but our eyes seem to communicate. His eyes sparkle from the light of the bright house, and once again, I feel myself become lost in them. His gaze never leaves mine, but his movement causes my eyes to watch the rest of him as he removes his gloves and fangs. He glances down at my lips and licks his own before he reaches out to me.

He cups the back of my head in his hand and pulls me to him, attacking my lips. His hands and lips are cold, but it's not surprising since we are outside. I open slightly when I feel his tongue probing, and he accepts my invitation. _Oh. My. Fuck._ If I thought he smelled good before, his taste is even better. I feel like I could come right now, just from the feeling of his tongue in my mouth.

I greedily take more from him, tilting my head to get better access. He hums in satisfaction as he hungrily moves his mouth to my neck. He lightly nibbles and sucks just below my ear, and I break out in goose bumps. I try to tell myself the tingling sensation is from the cold, but the truth is it's from him.

"Are you cold?" Edward questions, momentarily halting our kiss.

I am cold, but I don't think it has anything to do with him. I don't care how cold he feels to me or the temperature of the air-I just want him.

"Yes, a little. But don't worry about it, I'll be fine." I brush the coldness off as nothing and attempt to restart our kissing.

"Nonsense. You _are_ cold. We had a heater installed out here," he insists and turns around to turn the large space heater on behind him.

"Hmmm, this is very convenient," I tease, trying to sound seductive as I stand up.

I walk toward him and reach up to wrap my hands around his neck, attempting to pull him closer to me. I grasp his hair and tug lightly as my lips meet his. He hungrily accepts me, and I just can't get enough-I want him to do so much more. I think he understands my meaning because he eagerly lifts me up then lays me down on the picnic table under the gazebo. I am full of shock that he was able to pick me up so easily, as if I weigh no more than a trite leaf.

He hovers over me, and our kiss ignites into a burning fire-desire blazing amongst us. Neither of us seem to be able to get enough. Our hands begin traveling over one another's bodies, and it isn't long until we are grinding into each other. His hardness feels amazing against me, and suddenly I want even more.

Our grinding and touching spurs us both on, even more than we already are. Moans, grunts, and quiet whispers are the only sounds we can hear, other than the noise from the party.

We communicate with our bodies what we want, and the sexual tension surrounding us is palpable. I have never felt this wanton, but it seems to take me over completely. For the first time ever, I want to have sex. It doesn't bother me that I am a virgin. I don't even know this man, but I want him. Apparently he wants me too, and I watch him as he steps back and starts to remove his clothes.

This is it. I am ready, but I just don't like the fact that we are so exposed. I try to stop him, but he shakes his head from side to side, telling me no. So I am left with no other option than to step back and enjoy the view. And what a view it is. Edward begins to unbutton his shirt, almost agonizingly slow. When the shirt is discarded to the ground, my eyes feast on his torso. It's wonderfully toned—not too lean and not too muscular. He is simply flawless—the epitome of the perfect man.

With his pants still remaining, Edward stalks towards me and motions with his fingers that he wants my shirt off. I sit up, and he helps me lift my t-shirt over my head. He is silently and effectively commanding me, simply by controlling our situation. All my reservations are thrown out the window-so to speak. My shirt is tossed over his shoulder then he quickly and easily removes my bra, adding it to the pile of clothes before he lays me back down.

Hovering over me, Edward's mouth goes directly to my breasts. His mouth is on one, flicking his tongue over my hardening nipple, while teasing the other one with his hand. The feeling is amazing, and once again I find myself on the edge of coming. The man is officially a sex God, and we haven't even touched each other.

His hands and tongue continue kneading, sucking, and teasing my breasts until I can take no more. I try to push him off of me in attempt to get to him, but he won't budge. He knows I am close, so continues the assault on my chest in anticipation of my orgasm. When I actually do come, I come so hard that I can hear my screams of pleasure echoing off of the neighboring houses. I have heard about women coming from breast play, but I never thought it was real. This man seems to have super powers.

Right now I could care less who hears or sees us. I want to reciprocate, and I lunge forward and grab the hardness under his jeans. He hisses through his teeth as I struggle to undo his button-fly. I am now on my hands and knees, still on the table, while he stands at the edge of the table. I finally get the damn things undone and shove his pants, along with his boxers, down his leg. He kicks them the rest of the way off, and I am stunned when I focus on him.

His cock is magnificent. I don't even know how to explain it. It is long and thick, and gloriously hard. This is also the first time I have seen an uncircumcised penis, and I am completely awe-struck. I think it is single-handedly the most beautiful one I have seen, not that I've seen that many. I've never actually seen one in person, only in porn. I will never understand how they can be silky soft and totally rigid at the same time. Edward's, of course, is no exception. If anything, it feels much harder, almost like granite.

I can no longer control myself, and I instantly wrap my lips around his cock. I notice that this is cold as well, but I remind myself that we are outside. I begin to bob my head up and down his superb hardness, and his hands go straight to my hair. He doesn't guide me, but he simply uses my head for leverage. The grunts and moans coming from him spur me on.

I eagerly try to take all of him into my mouth, but he is just too large. I use my hands, along with my mouth, to bring him to the edge. It seems this is going to take a long time, so I use my teeth to gently scrape his shaft before closing my lips and pulling him out of my mouth with a pop. I repeat these steps over and over.

I look up at him through my lashes, and I am met with an open mouth, closed eyes, and head thrown back in ecstasy. I am determined to finish him off this way and step up my efforts even more. Within a few minutes he starts to murmur. Suddenly, his once green eyes are fading and an almost golden color is showing through as his gaze meets mine.

We continue to stare at each other and before I know it, I can feel him harden impossibly more before I can feel his come shooting down my throat.

"Bella. Beautiful, Bella. Yes…Ungh…ohmygod, yes!" Edward cries out in pleasure as he comes.

It is the strangest sensation. His cum is cold, ice cold, and I can feel a slight tingling in my mouth and throat as I swallow down his nectar. I think I like it.

He leans down to my level and kisses me fervently, with even more need and desire flowing freely through our touches. I barely have time to think about how amazing he is before he lifts me up, swiftly yanks my jeans off and gently flips me onto my back. He pulls me to the edge of the table and dives straight to my core, working his mouth and tongue.

I am now bare and exposed, but it doesn't matter—not when his tongue works its magic on my sex. Normally I would feel uncomfortable being so exposed, but for some strange reason I don't feel shy around him. He swirls his cold tongue up and down and in circles, occasionally nipping with his lips and sucking. I know it won't take long for him to make me see stars. I wait, enjoying every single moment his mouth is on me.

He doesn't relent; he doesn't come up for air and obviously seems to be enjoying my taste. I start to feel the tension begin to build up inside of me and my moaning increases to a porn-star level. I just can't help it—the man is amazing. I writhe beneath him, and my back arches off of the table as I feel the pressure snap and I am suddenly lost in my orgasm.

"Ahhhh, right there…yes, Edward! Holyshitdamnohmygod…Uhhhhhh…" I whisper, my voice rendered useless from his attentions.

It is most definitely the best orgasm I have ever experienced, much better than what I can do to myself. I continue to whimper before his lips are on mine. I taste myself on him, and while normally that would gross me out, right now it could quite possibly be the sexiest thing ever. Our kiss is hunger, need, and raw desire combined.

Edward doesn't waste much time as he lines himself up to my sex and thrusts in. His movements are slow and careful—almost like he is trying not to hurt me. He is definitely holding back, and I realize I don't want him to; I want all of him.

He continues his slow rhythm, and the speed is torture—I need more.

"Please, Edward. More. Stop holding back…please," I beg him profusely.

"Ungh, Bella. I can't, I don't want to hurt you," Edward pleads.

"You won't…just…please. Give me all of you." I attempt to reason with him.

I think it worked, at least somewhat as his movements quicken. His hands move to my hips and he grabs, hard. I want to complain because it hurts, but then again it feels amazing. It really does hurt so good. As he thrusts quickly in and out of me, I am in complete amazement of this man. He doesn't seem to tire and yet still appears to be holding back.

His head is tilted back with his eyes closed, and I can see him quietly talking to himself. I can't understand what he is saying and I can't hear him—his lips are moving too quickly. I decide it doesn't matter, and I just lay my own head back and enjoy the ride.

I say the ride because that is what it feels like. Exhilaration and excitement are both increasing my adrenaline level. I feel like I am going to explode soon. I have never experienced this level of stimulation, and I don't ever want it to end.

Edward is moving so quickly within me that it feels like he isn't moving at all, but surprisingly I can still feel each thrust. It doesn't take long and I am over the edge, screaming and mewling my way through my newest orgasm.

As I work my way through the pleasure, Edward leans down and bites me. It isn't one of those quick nips that are typical with rough sex, but he breaks my skin. Immediately I feel him coming inside of me, and I swear I hear him growl.

His movements inside of me still, but he isn't done. His lips don't leave my neck, and he starts to suck. My eyes fly open as fear courses its way through my system. I try to remove myself out from under him, but his hold is tight and possessive. Strangely, I realize how incredibly erotic this is. I notice the way his hands are holding me, they resemble the way an animal grasps at their food. Suddenly, it hits me…Edward is a real vampire.

It all makes sense. His hard and pale skin, the coldness of his touch, the eyes, his sounds, the sucking of my life source—my blood. As enjoyable as this is, I am not ready to lose him by dying. I feel myself getting light-headed and speak up.

"Edward, stop." I want him to stop, not because I am scared but because I want to know more.

Edward pries his lips off of my neck and stares at me in fright and embarrassment.

"I…I'm so sorry, Bella. I don't know what came over me. Did I hurt you?" Edward questions. I could hear the sorrow in his voice.

Laughing, I shake my head no. Edward looks even more confused.

"No. I…liked it. I am still shocked about my discovery, but it is so fucking hot I can't help myself. _You're a vampire!_" I excitedly proclaim his hidden identity as his mouth curls up into that same half-smile.

"Yes. Yes I am. I hide it well, but I couldn't hide from you. I don't want to hide what I am anymore. You do something to me, Bella. I want you, forever." His eyes are pleading with me, begging me not to go, as if I have a choice.

Before I can respond, he continues. "I don't have the strength to stay away from you. I have been watching you all semester, and you completely captivate me. You are my mate, I know it," he desperately explains.

"Your mate?" I question, confusion probably covering my face.

"Yes, my mate. Vampires only have one mate, and when they meet, it can't be avoided. I can't help it, you are like a drug to me, and I can't live forever without you. Not now that I have had the pleasure to taste you, take you, and love you."

I want to be his, forever. I don't care about the ins and outs of being a vampire. I don't care what it will cost me. My decision being made, I verbalize my plan.

"Edward. I can't explain it either, all I know is I want you, forever. Change me?" I didn't mean it to come out as a question, but it doesn't matter. The words are out and I won't change my mind.

"No," Edward firmly exclaims. "I won't end your life for you."

"Please. Please, I want it." My voice cracks as I envision my life without him in it.

"Bella. You don't know what you are asking. You will lose everyone in your life; you won't be able to see them again, ever. It will be painful, an excruciating burn for days. I can't put you through that. I refuse to be selfish, no matter how much I desire the same thing," Edward explains to me, the pain evident on his face. I can tell he is conflicted.

"I don't care, Edward. Please, give me my last human wish. Make me yours; possess me, claim me," I pleaded with him for the last time.

His resolve gone, Edward leaned down to me, thrust his still hardened cock into my pussy, and bit down.

It burned. I felt his venom pulse through my body and just before I passed out, I spoke my last human words.

"Happy Halloween, Edward."

**A/N:** There you have it. My first vamp fic. I hope it wasn't given away too soon that he's a vampire. I hope you enjoyed it. Leave me a review and tell me what you think. As usual, you can find me on Twitter... (at) melonscraps.


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